


Midnight Train

by Moondust (ASilentVoice42)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, History, Late Night Writing, Memories, Other, Philosophy, Reminiscence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASilentVoice42/pseuds/Moondust
Summary: We have lost many as a nation, but that doesn't stops us from reminiscence for the dead.





	Midnight Train

First step.

 

It was cold and quiet, painted with the black colour of the night. The silence embraced him, almost choking him with its heavy darkness.

 

Second step.

 

The booth was still open, yet no one was here at all. Time stood still; the sound of a far away engine roared.

 

Third step.

 

"The train to Hong Kong will arrive in one minute." The screeching of a train wheel was slowly but surely coming closer.

 

Fourth step.

 

The suitcase dangling beside his legs, the plastic handle was wrapped by his cold hands. Soon enough, he would have to leave it all behind.

 

Fifth step.

 

The train came. The silence was replaced with the opening of the automatic doors. No one was walking out of the carriage, nor was there anyone else but him walking in.

 

Let the silence embrace me.

 

He stared out the window. The city lights were there, flashing before his mortal eyes, yet he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of what it was. Well, it was a usual scene for him: traveling from the place he called home, to his little child's home. There wasn't much to see, anyway, because his mind was lost in thoughts, and before he knew it, everything turned into darkness.

* * *

 

"Hey, wake up, old man." That sound...

 

"I want to congratulate you for..." That voice...

 

"Things have changed, Yao. You should quickly adapt, or you'll be left behind." It was him.

 

"Leon?" The figure of a young boy slowly and steadily appeared in front of his eyes.

 

"What's up, old man?" It was brief, yet he knew what the kid was talking about.

 

"Leon, respect your elder." He was in the office where he’d always been. Nothing had changed - the crooked wardrobe, the uncomfortable, cheaply made chair, the dirty yellow walls. The smell of essences lingered in his old apartment.

 

"Liên said that you'd strained your back at the world meeting, so she had to give you a massage to get you back on the road. You went to sleep for a while then, and Honda had to cancel the meeting early."

 

Is that so? he thought.

 

"Why are you still here?" His voice was hoarse and dry. When was the last time he got a proper sleep?

 

"Tai said I had to watch over you while you sleep; I had brewed some tea for you while I was watching the house." Ah, so that's why he was here.

 

"I'll leave you alone." With that, the door was shut, leaving the ancient country alone.

 

He looked at the clock. 00:00. Midnight.

 

Looking out to the city below, he felt a strange sense of loneliness and familiarity. This wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time he would ever see this light. The city never slept; lights still shone and flickered from everywhere. It wasn’t always like this, he thought. He used to have a house down there. It was old but stylish, and he missed it, a lot. Yet it had been changed, modified into a restaurant, leaving it to be yet another memorial in his mind.

 

“How long?” he whispered.

 

 

It wasn’t a question directed toward anyone but time itself. It was so old and strange, a concept that was there, at the very least - abstract and forgotten. Thousands and thousands of years had passed, yet he still hadn’t found an answer for it.

 

The first to rise, and the last to fall. The first to see, and the last of them all to survive. Rome, Persia, Ancient Greece, Egypt - one by one, they were all turned to dust, only to be found and remembered by their descendants once again.

 

“How long?” he asked himself.

 

Time stood still; the city view was going blurry, replacing it with a darkness that clouded his mind.

 

“How long?”

 

The question burned inside of him. How long would he live? How long would he need to go through this? How long until he would see his long lost friends again? How long would this suffering last?

 

“It’s always midnight, huh?” The small sound touched the empty room, echoing forever in his ears. Truly, it was always midnight when his thoughts submerged, rising to his mind as everything else slowly disappeared. Midnight - the time to reflect on his life. Midnight - the time when his memories rose from his subconscious. Midnight - the time for them to meet him.

 

It was, as he and everyone else believed, a time for souls and ghosts to rise up, walking from the other side of reality to travel to this material world. It was the time when his people, who were once alive here, to visit their descendants, their great-grandchildren, and to protect them from harm. It was the time to see and to forever remember how much time had passed since then.

 

He wished he had that privilege - the privilege to see his past lover, his past friends and his past rulers. Looking down upon his lap, he opened and closed his hand, feeling his cold skin. 4000 years trapped in this body, 4000 years to reflect on himself, 4000 long years that he had lived. His duties will not be fulfilled until he himself had been forgotten.

 

No one wanted to live forever, just to see days by days and years by years going by, looking at wars, the rise and fall of humans and nations. Perhaps it would be best for him to just close his eyes once more, just to live past one, and many more times of living and dying. He had waited 4000 years, now he was ready to wait 4000 more. And when he was gone, he hoped that he would have a chance to live like a human, as he had once dreamt of.

* * *

“We have arrived at Hong Kong station, I repeat, we have arrived at Hong Kong station. Please check for your luggage and property before you leave. We will not be responsible for any of your missing luggage.” The com began its robotic voice; slowly opening his eyes, Yao checked his wrist clock, only to see it was one in the morning. Scratching himself, he shook his hands and legs many times before standing up and walking to the door. Walking a few steps past the empty tickets booth, he found Leon playing with his phone. He sighed. The boy never changed.

 

“Hello, old man.” The kid didn’t even look up. What a brat - he must have learned that from Arthur.

 

“Tch. Respect your elders, Leon.” The two immortal beings walked side by side in absolute silence; it wasn’t uncomfortable, nor is it pleasant. There was something he must have forgotten. He stopped; Leon turned around to see him.

 

“What’s wrong?” He was hesitating; something had been bugging him, and yet he couldn’t even put his finger on what it was.

 

“I had a dream.” His whisper was small, but Leon heard it.

 

“Everyone has them.” The boy sighed.

 

“Especially us.” He was right.

 

“Don’t bother with it. I'm sure it’s just some old memories. Come, the meeting starts at six. We have to get ready.” Yao nodded, leaving behind the burning question.

 

It was probably something unimportant, anyway. And like that, they left, leaving the midnight station behind.

* * *

 

Everyone keep asking us, why did god create us? But by all means, we will never know, we’re all just scepters, watching this small material world, waiting for it’s ends. Surely, in the mind of god, it will always be a mystery to us.

* * *

Written by Almond.

 

Words count: 1317

 

Writing prompt:

 

What makes a nation's nation?

 

What makes a nation's human?

 

A/n: This was a small project I was working on for my writing prompt, it was just a one time thing for it, feel free to enjoy and gives criticism on how it could be improved.

* * *

To live, to love and to be forgotten in the sands of time.


End file.
